


Prove yourself a lion

by Lann_the_cleverest



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bath Sex, F/M, Incest, Naked Male Clothed Female, Non-Canon Relationship, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lann_the_cleverest/pseuds/Lann_the_cleverest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyrion is having a bath, Cersei walks in and sees him naked... Incest ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prove yourself a lion

**Author's Note:**

> I would have this set during A Clash of Kings, at the height of Tyrion's power.

She was staring again.  "Jealous?" he smirked, cocking a brow and doing nothing to conceal himself.  Cersei _**was**_ staring, and here he was innocently having a bath.  The water glistened off the coarse blonde hair on his chest, and flattened that which lay around his cock.  It was grotesquely big; thick as well as long.   _He got what should have been mine as well as his own_ , she thought bitterly, though the bitterness did nothing to quell the building heat uncurling in her loins.  As though he could read her thoughts, Tyrion smirked again. "I know it is much bigger than yours, sweet sister, but really... Had I a sense of modesty, I would be blushing like the Maid by now."

He stood then, the water clinging to every inch of him, and Cersei found herself licking her lip...  "Hand me my robe then," he sighed when he realised he was to have no peace.    
"No," Cersei purred.  "I have a much better idea..." She crossed the room quick as a flash, and pushed him back into the water, straddling him, wet skirts clinging to them both, and she set upon his mouth like a lioness devouring her prey.

Tyrion behaved rather a lot like prey as she began to kiss him, until he realised for true what was happening and began to kiss back, just as fierce, just as bruising. His cock started to harden against her thighs, and he decided that this was in fact a much better way of concealing it than with a robe.

Cersei was aflame, but her mind never stopped turning - Tyrion was the Hand, but a Hand was useless without a mind controlling it. He would be hers with this one act, and then power would be her's as well, and her valonquar vanquished in one fell swoop.  "Come little brother," she panted into his mouth. "Show me that you have the skill to go with the size." Her hand splashed between them, and gripped him roughly, bringing him to full size, which was incredible. Bigger than Jaime, bigger than Robert, bigger even than the once she had caught glimpse of their father out swimming when she was a girl. A strange part of her wanted him to succeed, to impress her; to prove himself a lion at last.

He would never have guessed it by her grip. It felt as though she wanted to rip it root and all from his body, and he groaned. "Just like old times," he laughed. And that smile was not mocking, it was Jaime's, the winning smile that belonged entirely to her. At such a recognition, she kissed him again like a woman drowning, her cunt growing slick, and not from the bathwater.

They kissed on and on, a battle for supremacy between two mouths, first one winning and then the other, then lines blurred and it was no longer clear, and Cersei was moving his length to the slit in her small clothes. "Now?" Tyrion asked, not showing, but feeling a hint of brotherly care. He knew he was big, he knew he would hurt her. "Now, if you are a lion," she moaned, rubbing him against her opening. And so he pushed - up and in and deep and hard and Cersei cried her pleasure to the ceiling. She was full, full, full and it was good.

Tyrion's eyes rolled back in his head and he saw the stars dancing at the perfection that enveloped him. Even three children and a husband who by all accounts rutted like an arrochs had not ruined her. She was tight and hot and wet and for this moment she was his entirely.  
Her claws left long red trails down his back and chest, and he left a small red mark on each of her breasts where they had fallen close to his face and tempted him to show his teeth. It did not take him long to reach his peak, but he worked her cunt with thick fingers and she crowed her release seconds before he did, sweeping him along in her wake.

Neither of them thought of consequences as his seed pulsed into her. Neither of them thought of Jaime as they lay panting, her head lolling atop his chest. Neither of them thought of anything as his hand ran through her hair. It was a moment, it was perfect, and then, like all moments, it was gone. And she was queen, and he was the Hand.

But when they argued about some small matter over the small council table the next morning, and their eyes met, each wondered of the marks they had left upon the other...


End file.
